


First Few Desperate Hours

by orphan_account



Series: Tallahassee [5]
Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: M/M, Porn, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 17:38:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7473549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>In the fuzzy darkness, in this haze of exhaustion, in this ageless space, he forgets the anger and irritation borne out of spending every waking moment with this man. Mac is a beautiful boy with mussed hair and crinkles around his eyes and Dennis forgets himself. His mouth is on Mac’s moments after the vodka touches his throat. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Few Desperate Hours

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my favorite things I've ever written, so I hope you guys like it too.

Dennis scoots into the backseat of the car, a grin of self-satisfaction on his face. Mac is slumped over his arm on the car door, dozing. He startles awake when Dennis shuts the door. Dennis would normally give him shit about ‘keeping watch’ but it’s three am and he has small bottles of vodka filling his pockets. So instead, he pulls out six of them and rolls three into Mac’s lap.

“What is this?” says Mac, yawning.

“What does it look like?” says Dennis, uncapping one. He holds it up to Mac as if to toast him.

“Like grey goose in a tiny bottle,” says Mac, uncapping his own. “Did you get that from the gas station?”

“Hell yeah I did! Bottoms up!”

He and Mac down their vodka in unison. Mac wipes his mouth off with his hand, eyes bright. He uncaps the next bottle.

“Liquor at gas stations. Holy shit. Let’s never leave Ohio.”

Dennis laughs, uncapping his own. “Hold up, dude. This is the only good thing we’ve seen in this hick state.”

Mac downs his, not even bothering to mock cheer. “This is the most important thing.”

Liquor’s warmth barely registers in Dennis’s throat or stomach anymore. A lifetime of drinking has desensitized him, made vodka shots feel like downing water. But here in this car with Mac at three in the morning, gulping down shots in Dennis’s Range Rover like they’re teenagers – it feels new again. He’s sixteen and Mac has shoplifted these and they burn on the inside when they go down, sharp and new. Dangerous. This isn’t beer; it’s a new beginning. He opens the final bottle.

“We’ll steal more in the morning.”

Mac’s face lights up. “I can drink to that.”

They clink their bottles this time, and drink to their new youth. Maybe change isn’t what they need; the answer is to revisit the past. They can shoplift at 40 even though they don’t need to anymore. Everything old can be made new. In the fuzzy darkness, in this haze of exhaustion, in this ageless space, he forgets the anger and irritation borne out of spending every waking moment with this man. Mac is a beautiful boy with mussed hair and crinkles around his eyes and Dennis forgets himself. His mouth is on Mac’s moments after the vodka touches his throat.

Mac freezes at the kiss, says a muffled ‘wha?’ into Dennis’s mouth but Dennis doesn’t stop. He moves closer and strokes the side of Mac’s face with his thumb. The empty bottles of Grey Goose roll off his lap and onto the floor as he curls his legs up next to him on the seat. Mac sighs happily and closes his eyes. He opens his mouth a little to let Dennis’s tongue inside. Dennis can taste the remnants of alcohol on his lips. His dick hardens and presses insistently against the zipper of his jeans. Dennis can’t help but exhale a soft moan.

He slides his body even closer and moves his mouth down, kisses Mac’s salty skin, leaves hickeys against his stubble. Mac breathes heavily, swallowing air. When Dennis puts his hand up Mac’s shirt, he moans, halfheartedly, “We have to stop. This is gonnna get me sent – ungh” Dennis momentarily shuts him up with an impressive suck on his neck. It takes a moment for Mac to come to himself, but he presses on. “Hell.”

Dennis pulls away from Mac’s neck, and situates his hands against the door so he can press up and look Mac directly in the eyes as he says, “Shhh. We’re gonna live forever.”

Mac breathes heavily for a moment, eyes wide. Then he pushes Dennis’s face down into his neck, pressing so hard that his breathing is restricted. “Ok,” he says on quiet exhale.

Dennis breathes in and out into the hollow of Mac’s neck as he fumbles with the button of Mac’s jeans. He unzips them and slips his hand into Mac’s boxers. Dennis runs his fingers through the coarse hairs, and Mac shudders, already hard. He moves his knee against Dennis’s closed legs, and Dennis opens them to let it inside. He rolls against it several times, savoring the pleasure.

The small part of Dennis’s brain that is still lucid reminds him they can’t do laundry until they actually reach civilization. Dennis can’t blow his load inside his pants no matter how much he wants to at the moment. He unbuttons them and awkwardly pulls his pants and underwear down to his knees. Then in one practiced fell swoop, he lies on his back and pulls Mac on top of him. His elbows rest shakily next to Dennis’s head and his knees straddle Dennis perfectly. Mac’s breaths come in wet stops and starts. He looks down at Dennis in trepidation.

“I know you know what to do,” says Dennis. Unexpectedly, the response to this isn’t the frantic release of Mac’s dick from his boxers. Instead, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to Dennis’s lips. A realization rushes into Dennis’s brain as Mac runs his fingers gently through Dennis’s hair and slowly rolls against his hips.

_Oh shit. Mac is in love with me._

Love isn’t a feeling he’s built to process. He’s spent thirty-six years eradicating the urge to try. But as Mac abandons the kisses to thrust against Dennis more insistently, it becomes clear that this isn’t the kind of love that expects anything from him at all. This love is selfish, and that in and of itself is a revelation. Dennis understands the urge to take and take and take. He’s indulged it all his life.

Dennis pulls down Mac’s underwear with shaking hands until their lower quarter is skin on skin. Then he attempts to pull Mac’s tee shirt off of his body via the hem, and Mac laughs. He pulls it off himself and then tugs at that buttons on Dennis’s shirt one by one until his chest is bare. Dennis draws Mac down on top of him. They thrust in synchronicity until Mac is close. He mumbles nonsense into Dennis’s throat as he rubs against Dennis’s leg harder and harder. When he cums, he bites down hard as if he wants to consume Dennis whole.

Dennis leads Mac’s hand down to his dick, and pulls on it with him for several strokes. Mac continues enthusiastically when Dennis swings the arm over Mac’s back and digs his nails into the nape of his neck. He closes his eyes and thrusts along with the steady movement of Mac’s calloused hand. In his mind’s eye, this is a feast for the starving, a chance to devour each other. He raises a chalice and makes a toast to the false idea that they could truly love anyone.

His orgasm arrives suddenly. It’s a five at best – his whole body doesn’t even shudder – but it doesn’t matter. Mac is grinning ear to ear with sleepy eyes, and Dennis smiles back, equally spent. Mac flops on top of Dennis and closes his eyes.

“That was amazing, dude. Why don’t we do that every day?”

“I dunno,” lies Dennis. He’s hot with Mac on top of him, but too tired to care. Mac presses his face against Dennis’s chest.

“I love Ohio.”


End file.
